I’m beginning the actual webcomic this week, and before I commit anything to expensive Bristol board, which I will ink and scan, then color in the computer, I need to do a quick rough layout to give me an idea of how the ink and color will work, so in order to cut costs while working on something similar, I ordered a case of dry cleaner shirtboards. These are 8 1/2 x 11″ cardboard pieces, white on one side, undyed cardboard on the other. They are nearly the same size as comic books, just a little larger. And they’re very cheap! I have enough to last me for the next several projects, with plenty to spare.

They also come with very pleasant creative associations for me. As a lad, I discovered that my grandfather kept all of his leftover shirtboards in the hallway cupboard. I didn’t have any fancy drawing materials, growing up. I’d use newsprint sheets borrowed from school, or in a drawing pad for kids. You couldn’t draw with gusto on newsprint, so having all these sturdy cardboard sheets was a new experience for me. And having that many blank sheets was an open invitation for me to create a story from those hundreds of boards. I don’t think I thought of myself as an artist at that point, but I definitely felt the call to fill in those boards with a long story worthy of all that space. That pretty much shaped my exceptions for the rest of my life: comics should be long and freewheeling, like comic strips, but unlike comic strips, they should have a story arc: a beginning, middle and end, like books or movies. I began to think in terms of epic stories that left the characters changed somehow. That was probably the first time I began to think in literary terms, I guess, for purely practical reasons.

The story I first created was quite involved, and I ended up displaying it at school as part of an art fair. I think the parents and students who saw it were a bit confused, since I was only allowed to display a small portion of it. My strengths as a storyteller were more in the writing than the drawing, so this was probably not the best forum for it. But it was my first taste of fame as a sequential storyteller.

As I began to organize my schedule for this webcomic, I realized this was the first time as an adult that I would be publishing such a story done entirely by me. I needed all the good vibes I could gather to myself, so during the writing of it, I’d try to recall every positive influence possible, anything that would make this effort as fun as possible, and as personally fulfilling, whether it was necessary to the process or not. There’s no reason I couldn’t just do this all on software: I have it, and enjoy using it, but I need to feel I have something in the real world, just in case. Physical media is the future, right?

At the last Xena Warrior Princess convention, this past January, I stopped by Adrienne Wilkinson’s charity booth (she’s the actress who played Eve and Livia, the stars of my story); she was selling memorabilia for a fundraiser, and I purchased several Xena comic books. They had the cardboard backing on them, the kind you use for vintage comics to preserve their integrity. The other day, as I was looking for some artist’s board I could use for a quick marker sketch of Livia, I spotted one of those comics, pulled the board out, and used it as my canvas. I liked the result because the surface was glossy, so I could smear the colored ink around as needed, and was exactly the same size as a comic book, so I could picture what the final result would look like if published. You can see the results here. I wouldn’t use this for my final art, but it gave me the freedom to play around with it.

Shirtboard is not quite as glossy, but a little shinier than matte Bristol board, so it’s sort of a compromise. It’s disposable, so I won’t feel inhibited using it, but good enough that I can get good results with it. Plus, seeing that tall stack of boards in the corner of my workroom, it reminds me of my first “graphic novel” experience, and I can’t help but wonder what those boards will look like when I’m done with them.

Tonight I did a few quick sketches for the prologue to my webcomic, based on Aeschylus’s lost comedy, Proteus*. I drew these from memory, so they don’t exactly match the performers I’m basing them on, but I mainly just wanted to see if I could capture the spirit of the characters, first.

Starting at the upper left is Menelaus, based on Bruce Campbell. I drew just enough to convince myself I could get the basic elements of his appearance. He has the biggest role, and despite the broad comedy, his actions are fairly nuanced, so I’ll have to work on those in context. To his left is the satyr character from Disney’s Hercules, sort of based on Danny Devito.
Below at left is Helen of Troy, and it took me a number of tries to capture the effect I wanted: a comedic blend of hautiness, indignity, & sorrow. You can also see she’s sprouted wings, as she is the daughter of Zeus as a swan. She’s based on one of my favorite Hercules: the Legendary Journeys guest-stars, Lisa Chappell, who appears in a lot of the show’s screwball comedies. To her left is the title character, Proteus, half man half fish, the Greek god of change. He’s based on Michael Hurst, who also played a half man half fish on Hercules (among many other roles). At his left is his mischievous daughter, Dorothea, based on Xena guest star Sheeri Rappaport, who played Otere of the Northern Amazons. Sheeri had mentioned during her Xena convention appearance that she wished her schedule had permitted her to appear on Bruce’s show, Jack of All Trades. I think that could’ve been awesome to see her play opposite Bruce, and since my version of Proteus is very similar to that show, I thought I’d do some wishcasting and include her here.

This short webcomic is maybe five pages long, so a good chance to practice before I get started on the main event.

*In case you’re wondering: even though Aeschylus’s comedy is lost (except for a single line of dialogue), scholars can get a fair idea of the plot if they combine the story from Homer’s Iliad with known comedic tropes used by ancient Greek playwrights. I Xena-fied those tropes to adapt them to this show, and added a few more elements to help this story foreshadow the main webcomic. Key moments of my webcomic drew from this story for inspiration, just as Xena‘s episodes often borrowed from Greek myths, plays, and epics.

Here’s a quick sketch I did (15 minutes in pencil, 5 minutes to ink/color), a few days ago, because I really wanted to know what this would look like. I worked off of references I’d collected for a while, so the choices were already made. This is for a companion story to my “Rock of Ages” webcomic coming up. While that webcomic is set after the end of season 5 of Xena Warrior Princess, and concerns Eve, Xena’s daughter, this is from a prequel (working title: “Champions”), set right before the final trilogy of that season, which introduces her daughter as a Roman commander, Livia. This story gives us a glimpse of what Livia’s life was like just before her mother reappears after a 25 year absence (frozen in ice!).

This story goes into more detail about her pursuit of the Elijian cult, and since this story will run roughy concurrently to the main webcomic, it will reflect and parallel that story, to a fair degree. Unlike that main story, it’s not a musical, nor involves dance, but music plays a huge role in my creation of it, so I’ll be including links to those inspirational videos as a kind of closing credits score for each chapter.

This scene shows Livia prepared to track down that part of the Elijian cult that dares to reside in Rome’s capital city. Clues point to a downtown art gallery as being frequented by those with insurrectional ideologies, and since the Roman army is forbidden to enter the city itself, Livia decides to investigate and infiltrate them without alerting them of government interest. She’s dressed as an art aficionado, and armed with known slogans of the cult’s belief, to see who bites. The gallery’s owner, Antony Warholus, is a subversive artist and connoisseur of cultural critiques, just the sort of fellow who’d attract Rome’s most dangerous underground movement!

Livia’s dress is based on an actual psychedelic dress design. I chose it for its chakram-like pattern, and its painted ray appearance almost resembling a bloodsplatter. Her green glasses are similar to those worn by the actual Andy Warhol, and in ancient Rome, green-tinted glass was used like sunglasses, to filter out sunlight and soothe the eyes. I was determined to give Livia as many wardrobe changes as I could think of! The actor I based Antoney Warholus on is Stuart Devenie, who played the hilarious villain in Jack of All Trades.

I’m planning to make this parallel story in black and white, but for this one chapter, I will make an exception, since color variety is as important to it as it was to Warhol’s own creations.